


I will stay upon your shoreland

by AozoraNoShita



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Selkies, but no permanent character death, descriptions of drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AozoraNoShita/pseuds/AozoraNoShita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Laurens accidentally captures a selkie. At least, he thinks he's the one doing the capturing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll come to you while the moon shines bright

**Author's Note:**

> I've lived next to the beach all my life so sometimes I forget people don't know about things like SEA TURTLE LAWS, which make people turn off/shutter their lights if they live on the coast so sea turtle hatchlings don't confuse the lights for the moon  
> also this dead people rpf is completely new to me so if I've mischaracterized someone I?? would appreciate pointers? oh man

            When John found the coat he was exasperated. Seriously, who left fur coats hanging around on the beach at night? Granted, there were a lot of tourists who frequented the island, and the majority of them were some combination of rich and/or drunk. It was hardly the worst thing he could have found lying out here. He stooped with a sigh and plucked at one sleeve. He'd been walking for a while and he really didn't feel like lugging this all the way back to the beach house his family owned. He supposed he could stuff it in a trash can near one of the public beach accesses, but it was kind of bulky and sopping wet to boot, so he'd feel bad about it. Resigned, he yanked the coat up from the wet shoreline and shook it out a little, causing sand and water droplets to go flying. He wrinkled his noise as the fishy-salty smell of the coat hit him suddenly. "Tourists," he muttered to no one in particular. The beach was pretty much abandoned at this time of night, the lack of sun sending sunbathers and swimmers indoors or out to the island's nightlife options. Only a few solitary walkers were still out, John included, to enjoy the quiet waves, lit up only by moonlight as most of the beachfront residences shaded their windows to adhere to the sea turtle laws.

            Well, he was already damp anyway from the combination of sea spray and his own sweat, after walking so long in the muggy heat, so he slung the coat over his shoulder and walked it back to the Laurens beach house. On a whim he decided to drape it over the balcony facing the ocean, outside his room on the second floor. The morning sun would dry it out, and he could figure out where to dispose of it tomorrow.

            He grinned as he settled into bed. Tomorrow was the last day he'd be there alone; after that his friends would arrive and then this vacation could truly begin.

* * *

 

            When he woke up again the salt of the ocean was the first thing he breathed in. He'd taken to leaving the balcony door open, letting cool ocean air in during the night that prevented him from overheating, which he always seemed to do no matter how few blankets he had on the bed. Stretching languidly, he padded toward the balcony and immediately spotted the coat. It looked different in the sunlight; his eyes caught on it, fascinated, as he drew near. It was definitely dry now, but it still shone sleekly silver, reflecting light almost like the dappled patterns of moonlight on ocean waves. He reached out to touch it, somehow certain even before he made contact that it would be soft on his fingertips.

            Someone cleared their throat pointedly, and he jumped as his gaze jerked down and he locked eyes with a slight, sodden figure standing beneath his balcony.

            "The fuck—" he exclaimed, but his curse was cut short once the trespasser saw they had his attention.

            "That's mine."

            John blinked. The tone was firm, but the voice was a weird mix of deep and hoarse, sounding like it hadn't been used in a while. Then he processed the words. "Wha—this thing, you mean? It's yours?" He pointed.

            ""Yes. It's my _coat._ " He stressed the word oddly. "Give it back."

            John stared down disbelievingly at this brazen demand. "You just left the thing on the beach and you want me to _give it back_?"

            "It's mine," came the repeated insistence. "And I didn't just leave it there, it was right where I wanted it for when I came back but apparently _you_ came along and _took it_."

            "You—hang on." John grabbed the coat—briefly noting that it was in fact very soft but he had an irritated lecture about littering to give—and ducked back inside. Then stopped. The coat was still giving off the strong scent of seawater. He'd give the guy his coat back, and a lecture to go with it, but he supposed he could also wash the thing before he handed it over. Assuming the owner was suitably apologetic about his apparent habit of leaving fur coats on public beaches. He pitched it into the washing machine in the closet at the bottom of the stairs as he went by, noting he'd have to dig out laundry detergent from somewhere before he actually started it. Then he turned the corner and got his first close look at the mysterious coat-owner, who was standing with his nose practically pressed to the sliding glass door. For some reason, he was sopping wet. Had he just walked up from swimming?

            John grabbed a discarded beach towel before undoing the latch and sliding the door open.

            "Here," he presented the towel.

            "That," the boy said, "is not my coat."

            John gave him a 'no duh' look. "Dry off before you come inside."

            The boy stared at the towel, then at him. Staring back, John tried to prevent his face from flushing. The boy was slim, shorter than him by a few inches, and he was wearing a slapdash outfit of loose clothing that didn't really look like it belonged in the same wardrobe. His hair was hanging in dripping waves, with one curl distractingly plastered to his cheek. And his eyes—Lord, they were a gorgeous blue, and unwavering, even as they seemed to flicker in the morning light.

            John shook himself and tossed the towel at the other's head, turning around and heading back inside to hide his expression, which was probably an embarrassing mix of enthralled and dazed. He headed into the kitchen and busied himself with finding a frying pan in the multitude of cabinets. After a few minutes he heard the near-silent padding of bare feet follow him. He took a surreptitious glance at his visitor, who was slowly and kind of ineffectually rubbing at his hair with the towel while he inspected the room, gaze darting around curiously.

            "My name's John Laurens, by the way," he offered, trying to keep his tone casual.

            It took a few minutes for him to get a muttered reply that only vaguely sounded like a name.

            "I'm sorry, what? Alexander something?" That was his best guess but it hadn't really sounded like any kind of name he'dever heard. "Something that sounds vaguely, I dunno, Scottish?"

            "Alexander," the other boy agreed, not elaborating. "It was Scottish, a very long time ago."

            "...Dude, what does that even mean?"

            Having apparently finished his inspection of the kitchen (as well as the half-hearted drying of his hair), Alexander's full attention turned to him. "What did _you_ mean by stealing my coat?" he demanded, voice still oddly raspy.

            "I didn't steal it, I picked it up where you left it lying on the beach like trash!"

            Those blue eyes narrowed, indignant. "It's not trash, it's _my coat_! What did you do with it?"

            'I have it, chill, I'll give it back,' or something along those lines, was what John intended to say. But he only got through "I have it," before the words stopped up in his throat for some reason. "I have it," he repeated, and still didn't go further.

            "You have it," Alexander murmured, looking thoughtful. He bit his bottom lip contemplatively. (John struggled not to focus on it.) "Fine," he exclaimed suddenly. "You have it."

            John got the feeling something had been decided without him knowing what it was. They stared at each other; John was suddenly aware of the sound of waves, omnipresent at the beach but which had faded into background noise an hour after he'd first arrived on the island two days ago.

            "I'm going to look around," Alexander announced, then wandered upstairs, leaving John dumbfounded with a frying pan in his hands. Something was niggling at the back of his mind, something about Scotland and the sea and stolen coats—

            He thought of Alexander's bare feet, his wet, curly hair, the way he'd been clutching the towel over his head and shoulders like a coat, and most of all those almost _inhumanly_ beautiful eyes—

            Without really knowing what he was doing, he darted over to the washing machine and grabbed the coat, then shoved it in a canvas beach bag, then bundled it up in another towel, then shoved it under a shelf in the very back of the back closet, surrounded by old boxes and pairs of outgrown shoes.

            His breath sounded shaky to his own ears as he returned to the kitchen slowly and picked up the frying pan again.

            The floor creaked overhead.

            Okay, he thought. Now what?

* * *

 

            When Alexander meandered back downstairs, John was frying bacon.

            "I think we got off on the wrong foot," he told him, turning the heat down so he could step away from the stove and offer his hand. "I'm John."

            The s—no, his mind shied away from the word. The other eyed his hand bemusedly before holding out his own; John took it firmly to shake. "It's nice to meet you, Alexander. I'm making bacon, if you want some. Whoa." He'd just noticed the thin skin between Alexander's fingers was abnormally extended, almost like webbing. Alexander snatched his hand back, mouth twisted petulantly like he was daring him to comment.

            "Um. I'm. Sorry I took your coat?" Which, crap, hadn't been what he meant to say at all. But when it came down to it he'd give the coat back if he asked again. At least, he liked to think he would.

            Alexander's expression just shifted to amused, though. "I've never had bacon," he replied. _Fuck_ but he was beautiful.

            "Okay, so like Ponyo and ham," he babbled, and immediately had to resist the urge to slap his hand over his face in mortification. "I'm going to make sure I haven't burned it," he announced loudly, and turned back to the stove. But he caught Alexander's widening grin and heard the laughter bubble out of him like water from a spring and thought, What have I gotten myself into?

* * *

 

            John eyed his cell phone with mixed feelings. On the one hand, his friends were going to be another day late. Which sucked. On the other hand, he could use the extra day to figure out what he was going to do about Alexander. His visitor. His _selkie_. God, his friends were never going to believe him. And sure, it sounded bad to say "Yeah, this guy who left his fur coat on the beach is actually a selkie and I think by not giving it back to him that means he's living with me now?" But every time he'd think about it and almost convince himself there was no way selkies were real, he'd look at Alexander and catch his glinting, fae eyes and _know_ he wasn't human.

            _Selkie_ , he thought firmly. No getting around it. There is a selkie in my house. In my bathtub. He chanced a sideways glance at said selkie, who was stretched out in the full-to-the-brim tub, lazily batting around the bubbles on the surface.

            John shifted nervously on his perch on the toilet seat. Alexander had insisted he accompany him into the room while he took a bath. _John_  had insisted on the bubbles when Alexander started to strip down out of his ill-fitting clothing. The bubbles didn't hide everything, though. Alexander had his ankles propped up on the rim of the tub, so John had an excellent view of his legs if he looked, which he was trying valiantly not to do. (They really were very nice legs.) Every so often Alexander would ask him a question, ranging from "Who is Ponyo?" to "Explain your entire economic system to me." John had been using his phone to Google answers to some of the more involved questions when Lafayette had texted him about the delay. ("What's a google?" "I'll show you when you get out of the tub, I'm not letting any of my electronics near all that water—" And then he had to Google the basics of electricity.)

            "I don't understand why you want to take a bath when the ocean is right there," he muttered after they'd hashed out Edison to Jobs and lapsed into contemplative silence again. "I mean that water's gotta be cold by now anyway."

            Alexander raised an eyebrow at him (where had he picked _that_ up?). "Really? You can't think of a reason for me to avoid the ocean?"

            Because you're a selkie, John wanted to say, and maybe the idea of swimming in the sea without your coat makes you sad, or angry, or _something_ but I don't actually _know_ what you're thinking right now. Once again he couldn't get the words out. He thought of the late night reading he'd done on the couch, while Alexander slept on his bed bundled in blankets.

            In the stories, humans would steal selkies' coats to keep them as brides, but the selkie would always long for the ocean. If the selkie found their coat where the human had hidden it, they'd disappear back into the sea, never to be seen again. At least, not for seven years, which was apparently the arcane number of years that had to pass for a selkie to return to the same person, if they ever did.

            Can you really summon a selkie by crying seven tears into the sea? he wanted to ask, but he had the distinct impression Alexander did _not_ want to talk about where he'd come from—an impression made stronger when the selkie grinned at him, or more like, bared his teeth at him in a rather alarming manner. John dropped his gaze back to his phone and surreptitiously Googled 'do seals have teeth??'

            "Well we could have gone to the pool or something," he mumbled as he scrolled through Google images. Then he had to explain the idea of public pools.

            "That sounds...interesting. We'll have to check one out at some point. But this way is much more _intimate,_ don't you think?"

            John gaped at him, caught off guard. "I can't really tell if you're coming onto me, or what," he admitted finally.

            "Can't you?" This seemed to genuinely surprise him. "I'm not in the habit of being indirect or unclear. You're welcome to join me in the bath, John."

            His face went scarlet.

            "I don't really think there's enough room—"

            "I can make room," Alexander interrupted, unperturbed.

            "Um." He tried to think of what to say to the blatant invitation as Alexander shifted, causing water to spill over onto the floor. His hair was doing the _thing_ again, curling in wet strands around his face and neck. It was thoroughly distracting, and he got the feeling Alexander knew it, too.

            "You really didn't know what it was when you picked it up," Alexander marveled after a few minutes of John's star-struck silence.

            "No. I didn't."

            "But now you have it."

            "I have it," he repeated again.

            " _Well_."

            "Why were you even on the beach last night?" he blurted out.

            "I like looking around at the human things," Alexander shrugged.

            "So like the Little Mermaid basically?"

            " _Mermaid_? Excuse me?"

            One crisis averted for another, he had to Google Disney cartoons next.

            Alexander didn't ask for the coat back like he had standing under his balcony. Granted, John didn't offer it either, but he still wanted to believe he'd give it back if he asked again. He kept telling himself that he would.

            He would.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very happy every time someone puts a new fic in the alexander hamilton tag, shout out to all of you  
> titles from "The Maiden and the Selkie" by Heather Dale  
> this will most likely be continued soon


	2. and I will not go to the waves, love, lest ye come along with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL this is only half the length of the first chapter but I'll just go ahead and post it because next part should be a pretty big scene shift anyway  
> also THANK YOU to everyone who left kudos and comments, just wanna reiterate that I love you and feedback is very much appreciated since I really have no idea what I'm doing

In theory he had the extra day to rehearse explanations for his friends, but in practice John soon found out it was not a good idea to leave Alexander to his own devices. He'd returned from a grocery-slash-alcohol run (because they were sure as hell gonna need the booze, and some snacks never hurt either) to find the entire bottom floor of the house in disarray and Alexander nowhere to be seen.

            He set the overloaded grocery bags on the floor with a thud, and slowly stood to survey the damage. In some places it was obvious what had happened. His parents' admittedly sweet but also kind of excessive entertainment system setup had been dismantled and strewn over the couch, wires everywhere. Every pot, dish, and piece of cutlery in the kitchen had been pulled out as well, and sorted into incomprehensible piles on the floor. John could easily picture a curious Alexander examining the electronics and cookware, but on the other hand he had no idea what was up with the chairs from around the dining table, which had been pulled out and turned upside down so their legs jutted up into the air and then stacked precariously on top of each other in a strange little barricade.

            "Alex?" he called cautiously as he wandered further into the house. Maybe he was upstairs? Then he caught sight of the back closet door, hanging slightly ajar, and his breath caught. He approached it with dread churning in his stomach, reaching out with shaking fingers to edge the door open completely and hesitantly peer inside. The boxes had been moved around a bit, some missing their lids, and all the old shoes were shoved to the side. But really, it didn't look like too much had been disturbed. He could just see the corner of the bag he'd shoved the selkie's coat in, peeking out from the bottom shelf behind one of the boxes—one of the ones missing its lid.

            There's no way he could have missed it, he thought dully, even as he reached out to grab the bag. There's no way he didn't find it and leave.

            The coat was still there.

            The floor creaked overhead.

            John took the coat out and headed down the hall to the master bedroom. It was the room his parents used when they were on vacation, which thankfully was rarely at the same time as their children. There was an unspoken rule that 'the kids' weren't supposed to go in without supervision, so the door was kept closed; there were plenty of bedrooms upstairs for everyone else. The master bedroom's decor was more subdued, unlike the rest of the cheery beach-themed house, but it was spacious and clean. It also, John knew from childhood explorations, had a small safe built into the wall of the walk-in closet, intended for purses or jewelry boxes. When John folded the coat carefully, it just barely fit inside. Once he'd closed the door, he ran his hands nervously through his hair. His parents had left the safe door open since the last they'd been to the house, so putting the coat _in_ was easy. Getting it out, though?

            John didn't actually know the combination. He'd have to call his dad and ask for it if he wanted to take the coat back out, which would be an awful conversation no matter how he tried to spin it. But he'd closed the door anyway.

            I _can't_ give it back, he realized, and it was true in more ways than one. He'd felt awful when he'd thought Alexander was gone, and fuck, he felt awful now, too, but not as devastated as he'd felt before he knew the coat was safe.

            He sighed, pulled his disheveled curls back into a ponytail, and went to find his selkie.

            Alexander was standing in the middle of the balcony outside John's room, staring out at the ocean. The same vaguely nauseous—seasick—feeling that had been bothering him since he got back to the house accompanied John in full force as he approached the stock-still figure. "Alex?" He didn't get a response.

            Alexander's eyes were locked on the waves, unblinking. His expression looked fairly neutral to John, but what did he know? Alexander had only been here for a _day_. He didn't know him well enough to say whether he was just distracted or if he was pining for saltwater tides. Only a day, he told himself. So why do I feel like this? For God's sake, was he going to start being jealous of the Atlantic Ocean?

            He stepped purposefully between the selkie and the ocean, blocking Alexander's view. After a moment he blinked, and something in his eyes shifted so he was finally aware of John's presence. The weight of his gaze was almost suffocating, but John held his ground against the undertow.

            "You're back," Alexander's voice was pensive at first, but he grew more focused as he talked. "You're back? Great! So, what do you think?"

            "Huh?"

            Alexander smirked and did a quick spin on his heel, arms out. Oh, he'd changed clothes. Instead of his eclectic outfit from the day before, he had donned an olive green T-shirt and what looked like an old pair of one of his younger sisters' jeans. They fit him very well. Actually, for someone who'd been born in the ocean he'd managed to pick out a really nice outfit. And it seemed like he knew it, too, if the self-satisfied grin was anything to go by.

            John managed to smile back. "You look really good," he confirmed. The clothes probably came from the boxes in the closet, he realized, and he abruptly decided he needed to sit down. He leaned back until he was pressed against the balcony railing, then allowed himself to slide down it until he was seated, with his legs sprawled in front of him and the sun-warmed railing pressing uncomfortably against his shoulder blades.

            Alexander held his gaze all the way down, which was somewhere between gratifying and worrying. His mouth quirked as if he'd caught John's thought, and then suddenly John had a lapful of selkie straddling him. Even through his new clothes, John could tell his body temperature was cooler than normal. Not human. He sighed and wrapped his arms around Alexander's waist anyway, because at this point, _fuck it_. In return, Alex looped his arms around John's neck loosely, tugging idly with one hand at the end of his ponytail. John closed his eyes and they rested like that for half an hour, with the sun beating down and the sound of waves that refused to fade into background noise again.

            Even with his eyes closed, he could tell Alexander was looking at him the whole time.

            "John Laurens," Alex murmured eventually. "That was the first time you've smiled at me." And shit, he actually sounded sad about it. John opened his eyes again and instinctually tried to smile, but he was so tired, and he'd been so scared, and it had only been _one day_ , God help him.

            "Do you want me here?" Alex asked, serious.

            Those who stole selkie coats lived in constant fear of the day their bride would leave them, he'd learned from the stories.

            Still.

            "Yes," he admitted. He reached up and pushed a wavy lock of shining dark hair behind his selkie's ear. "I hid your coat somewhere better this time."

            This earned him another teeth-baring smile.

            "Good," the selkie whispered, _viciously_. And when he surged up over John like a wave, the human let his head be tilted back and his mouth be covered with another and he drowned beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand stay tuned for a how to date your selkie chapter some time in the foreseeable future  
> title once again from the Heather Dale song  
> please lmk if this is getting too ridiculous


	3. been breathing air all this time, you can surely keep it up a little longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends I'm posting this really fast because I'm about to go home for the holidays, tell me if you spot any errors because I didn't really check, either here or at my writing tumblr of the same username  
> it's gonna be over 70 degrees maybe I'll actually go to the beach IN DECEMBER  
> Maureen if you're reading this I'm very sorry  
> chapter title this time is from "selkie stories are for losers" by sofia samatar, which is available to read online and I would recommend to everyone who enjoys reading about lesbians and magical realism

_So are we like the selkie equivalent of hitched now?_ John wondered. All the stories online referred to captured selkies as wives, but maybe that was just old-timey phrasing. This was just another question he was too chickenshit to ask, apparently. Along with the question at the forefront of his mind at the moment, which was _Do you wanna go out with me today?_ Which, like, if they _were_ selkie-married, the least John could do was take the guy on a date. After a series of long, breathless kisses, John had basically dumped Alex on his ass and fled the balcony for the downstairs living room. Yeah, dick move, and he would totally understand if Alex was upset with him, except he hadn't been followed so probably he was just staring at the ocean again. But John would make it up to him somehow, and distract him from the water at the same time. How, though? Did selkies _do_ dates? Contemplating this question, John made the monumental mistake of asking his friends for advice.

"You think he's a _what_?" Laf squawked, and John had to hold the phone away from him at the volume. "Some kind of a mythological _sea creature_?"

"Give the phone back to Herc," he demanded once he judged it safe to put the phone back to his ear again. "I called him, not you."

"Rude," was the huffed reply, but after some indistinct shuffling noises Mulligan was back.

"You did just say...selkie, right? Like the sea creature?"

"Dude, not you, too. He's a...selkie, yeah, but can we not use the term sea creature?"

There was a pause.

"If you say so," Herc replied doubtfully. "And we're gonna meet this...selkie?"

Lafayette stole the phone again. "Why are we pausing before saying the word selkie? Is this some kind of euphemism I'm not understanding?"

More shuffling, and Herc returned. Laf could still be heard grumbling in the background, but John knew from experience that Herc would only allow his phone to be grabbed away twice before he put his foot down. He was a consistent, detail-oriented guy, which was why John had called him to ask about the date thing. They hadn't really gotten past the whole mythological sea creature aspect though.

"So you wanna take this," Herc paused for a while, deliberate, and John could just picture the look he was giving Laf, " _selkie_ on a date. At the beach."

"Yyyyyes?"

"Is that a good idea?"

"I dunno, that's why I'm asking you."

"What the hell makes you think I know anything about how to date a _selkie_?"

John sighed and shifted the phone to his other ear so he could use his right hand to continue cleaning the mess Alex had made of the entertainment system. If by 'cleaning' you meant 'shifting everything to the floor so he could lay on the couch,' which he did. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I just. Wanted some kinda input, I guess, because I have no idea what I'm doing. I appreciate that you haven't called me crazy yet, though."

There was a worrying silence. Then: "Just take him on a date. Like you would a human guy. We'll see about this selkie stuff when we get there. Tomorrow morning. _First thing_."

"Which means you have to pick us up from the airport!" Laf shouted in the background.

"Yeah, at ass-o-clock in the morning," John grumbled. "Okay. See ya then. Have fun dealing with the French asshole in the meantime."

"Fuck off," Herc told him cheerfully, and hung up.

John snorted and flopped onto the couch, arm over his eyes. If Alexander was a normal human, and John had managed to work up the balls to ask someone so gorgeous out, where would he take him? Useless line of questioning, because one, Alex wasn't normal _or_ human, and two, the obvious answer was the boardwalk, which was right on the ocean but for all he knew it would be insensitive or something. He tried to picture taking Alex there, and immediately envisioned the selkie throwing himself off the pier and into the waves to get away from him, coat be damned. Ugh.

He lay on the couch, daydreams blurring together into each other. He even let himself imagine, after a while, what it would be like dating Alexander without the constant threat of abandonment. In these reveries, Alexander didn't stare out at the sea, didn't soak for hours in the tub like it would hurt him to get out, and instead of those glinting blue eyes boring into him they were _brown_. Earthen instead of oceanic. Human.

He jerked awake when, with no warning, something landed on his stomach. When he opened his eyes he almost recoiled, faced with the eerie blue eyes he'd just been pretending didn't exist. Okay, Alex was straddling him again.

"Um."

"Tell me what you like about living next to the ocean," Alex demanded, apropos of nothing. John just blinked at him, heart still pounding with the selkie looming over him. Alex tapped his webbed fingers on John's chest. " _Words_ ," he insisted. "Tell me."

John spared a momentary thought to how quickly he was coming to hate this particular stare—wide, unblinking, inescapably inhuman. Still, for Alex, he tried to think of the words. "There are, um, different, uh faces to the beach, I guess is the word I'd use? There's the sun and summer beach. People everywhere. Noise. Food. People playing, on the sand and in the waves. I like that something in nature can draw the same crowds as like, a festival. Or something. It's like a party. Sometimes it _is_ a party. People are having fun."

Alex tilted his head a bit but didn't respond. His expression didn't change at all.

"Uh. There's also. Summer night beach. Most of the people are gone. I can walk for miles in either direction and only see a few people. It's warm and windy. The further away from the developments you go, towards the ends of the island, there's actually... _more_. Less signs of uh, civilization, I guess I'd call it but no less signs of _life_. If you're walking close enough to the waves sometimes you'll cross over tracks leading up from the ocean and towards the dunes. If you're lucky, if the moon is bright enough to see, you can follow them up and she'll still be there. A sea turtle, usually a loggerhead. And it seems like it takes forever, but she'll bury over a hundred eggs before she makes her way back down to the water. If the tide has gone out recently, it leaves behind tide pools close to the shoreline. You can walk through them, and the water is cold compared to the ocean, which still keeps the heat from the sun shining all day. There will be starfish and sand dollars in the pools, and you can pick them up and feel them move really slowly across your hands. In some of the smaller pools there's lots of phytoplankton, and if you wade through the water lights up, like underwater fireflies. In the dark the water looks black, and the plankton look like stars around your feet.  God, and so many other things. Seagulls nesting, and sandpipers, and ghost crabs that dart away with their claws up and ready."

He stops for breath, but Alexander is looking at him like he'd been looking at the ocean earlier, and it's hard to draw the air he needs into his lungs.

"There's also," he paused again to wet his lips with his tongue; Alexander's gaze focused on his mouth. He plowed on. "There's also, in a few months, the beach in the winter. Almost everyone's gone. And walking at night, it's the same in some ways but then it's completely different. Like when. When you’ve been walking for hours, and there are clouds covering a full moon but the sky is still so bright you can see where the dark gray ocean meets the navy blue sky on the horizon. With low tide waves sounding beside you and your shoes off to feel the wet sand and no one else is on the beach because of the cold and the wind coming off the ocean. And it's whipping your hair in your face and the lighthouse seems so close, there's the repeated flashing pattern, but it’s always further away just around the curve of the coast. And it starts to rain so lightly you can’t tell if it’s from the sky or the ocean—"

"John," Alexander breathed, and leaned in to kiss him.

John lost track of time.

Eventually he had to pull back, as much as he could pinned to the couch, and gasp for air again. Alexander allowed it, but he looked extremely pleased with himself, if a bit dazed.

 _Asshole_ , John thought fondly, and pressed on before he could talk himself out of it. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the boardwalk with me."

Alex sat back a bit. His eyes focused again—the curious kind of focused, not the creepy selkie kind. "That's the place with all the people. And things. Right?"

"Yeah, I thought you might have been there before when you were 'looking at the human things' or whatever. I think it'd be more fun with two people though. I could show you around and stuff."

Alex smiled. "Okay."

He almost sighed with relief. "Awesome. It's a date."

"I've seen people on dates before," Alex mused. "You're taking me on a _date_? Like a...courtship thing?"

"Well nobody calls it courtship anymore, but yeah. Like that."

"Why? You already have my coat," the selkie pointed out matter-of-factly.

Having apparently just about used up his word quota for the day, John struggled with how to put the extent of what he wanted into words. Eventually he got it down to: "I want you to be happy." When Alex just stared at him, he asked, "Is...the boardwalk okay?"

"The boardwalk is fine," Alex agreed finally, and rolled off him onto his feet. "Let's go. On a date. Do I have to wear shoes?" He turned away and flounced towards the sliding door. John didn't quite catch the expression on his face, but for a second he thought he saw a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real talk though if you ever come across a sea turtle laying her eggs do not bother her  
> if she's already in the laying stage you can hang out and chill with her because she's not about the give it up at that point, but you have to be quiet and move slow, and not shine light directly in her face, plus it's illegal to touch the turtles or the eggs  
> and alert whatever local organization is in charge of patrolling the beach so they can mark the nest off so no one steps on it
> 
> anyway hope you enjoyed me rambling about the ocean via john laurens, I love the phytoplankton but I left out the dead jellyfish and horseshoe crabs that wash up on the beach because honestly they're kinda smelly and ruin the mood
> 
> as always, love kudos and comments, especially with characterization advice. next chapter: the actual date part! laf and herc finally appear! probably more kissing!


	4. torn between sea mists and solid land, nights when I've ached for a human hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I'm snowed into my apartment, how're my fellow east coast residents?? (it's like three inches but we are not PREPARED for this stuff in the south. snow tires???)  
> I promised corny date stuff and the rest of the hamilsquad in this chapter, instead ended up with corny date stuff and Aaron Burr (who is my favorite). For sure hamilsquad next chapter. This one ends, uh. In some kind of way.  
> Anyway, more beach notes: a jetty is basically a line or protrusion from the land out into the sea; a man-made one is usually made of a pile of rocks. You can google pictures of these things, they're pretty cool but not recommended for walking on, as learned from painful experience.  
> The beach in this fic is based on a mix of Hilton Head Island in SC and Carolina Beach in NC. If you're ever out at Carolina Beach in the summer, please PLEASE do yourself a favor and go to Britt's Donuts. They're incredible. And they really do have a mini amusement park. And stores that only sell temporary tattoos.

John was nervous about the boardwalk at first, but Alex seemed thrilled, if his chatter about 'human things' was any indication. Apparently he was a fan of all the lights and music ("You can see and hear it from the water, you can tell things are _happening_ there!"), but not a fan of shoes ("Why do feet need so much protection, you've been using them to travel for thousands of years at least, shouldn't you have developed something less damageable by now?"). Lucky for him, John informed him, shoes were not actually required on the boardwalk ("Good."). Technically shirts weren't required either but John wasn't about to mention that, not entirely sure what he'd do if Alex decided to take his off.

The boardwalk had two main parts: a long pier extending out over the water, and a longer walkway that ran along the beach and was crowded with tiny stores packed with all kinds of quick food, tourist trap souvenirs, and sunburned people. Alexander's piercing eyes flicked from person to shop to pier rapidly. John tried to come up with a game plan in his head. This was a date, so he wanted it to be romantic, obviously. Boardwalk date was just about the most cliché thing you could do at the beach, but it wasn't like Alex would know that. So to start..."The pier?" he offered. "We could watch the sunset." He remembered his previous daydream about the selkie jumping off the pier back into the ocean and did his best not to wince.

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were gonna show me the _human_ things."

Relieved, he agreed quickly. "Yeah, and people fish off that pier. Wouldn't want to step on a fish hook with those delicate feet of yours."

Alex scoffed. "Fish hooks."

"Okay then, let's skip right over the natural beauty around us and get straight to video games." He pulled him towards the arcade.

" _Ooooh_."

He was glad he'd brought a lot of cash, because it seemed like Alex wanted to try _everything_. All of the games in the arcade—mostly old school stuff, so they got to slam on lots of buttons, which was always fun—and then onto all of the kitschy shops selling neon T-shirts and cheap flip-flops and shark tooth necklaces on hemp string. By the time he managed to pull Alex out of a grungy-looking store that exclusively sold sunglasses and temporary tattoos, the sun had gone down and the lights were lit up.

He tried to picture seeing this from the water. A row of soft white lights ran up and down the pier and then along the edge of the boardwalk, while more ostentatious and colorful flashing bulbs lined the edges of the roofs of most of the shops. And then there were the fair rides, just starting up for the night on the very edge of the boardwalk: a small ferris wheel blinking in circular patterns, a drop tower with bright red and yellow lines racing up the sides, and a short roller coaster that, viewed from a distance, must have looked like swirling lines of red, white, and blue lights. Altogether more eye-catching and brighter than the stars. And on weekends when they launched fireworks from the end of the pier, no one bothered to look at the pale light of the moon. It was all very...human.

"Food now," he told Alex, who was looking dazzled. "And then rides."

Boardwalk food was basically fair food: if it was unhealthy, fried, or covered in sugar, you could get it at one of the shops. They split a greasy burger and a cheeseburger so Alex could try both at one shop (he preferred without cheese). Then they hit the pizza place next door (where he insisted on trying the evil pizza with pineapple on it, what the hell Alex), followed by the ice cream store on the other side (he liked green popsicles better than blue but preferred the dripping chocolate and strawberry ice cream cone more), and then finally...the donut stall.

"Sure ya can eat more?" John asked, grinning, because this date was going amazing and they were about to eat donuts.

"Fuck yeah," Alex said immediately, still licking melted ice cream off his fingers.

And that was a bit distracting, so John didn't see the other couple in line for donuts until he noticed Alexander staring at them.

"Oh," he said when he turned and saw who it was that had caught the selkie's attention. "Hey Burr."

"Laurens." This was unusually succinct, even for Burr, but the guy seemed to be distracted staring at Alex. Weird. The woman standing with Burr was also staring.

"Who's this?" he asked, half to be polite and half to get the creepy staring to stop. "The special someone I've been hearin' rumors about?"

Burr and the as-yet-unidentified woman turned to stare at him instead. It was unnerving, to say the least. Burr's eyes were dark enough brown that they were almost black, and they absorbed the boardwalk's array of lights until they reflected as only tiny pinpricks. The woman's eyes were wide and they flashed in the light, making their color indistinguishable until she shifted and they cleared to a bright hazel.

"This is Theodosia," Burr introduced finally. "And who's this?"

"Alexander," John replied shortly, put off by the strange atmosphere.

Alex snorted at his side, and leaned forward to offer his hand to Theodosia. "Alex," he corrected cheerfully, seemingly unaware of the strangeness of this meeting.

"Theo," she answered with a small grin. They clasped hands for a bit longer than a normal handshake. Alex hesitated but offered his hand to Burr, too, who seemed to find it amusing. They either didn't notice or chose not to comment on Alex's webbed fingers.

_What the hell_.

"What's up with you guys?" Alex asked abruptly, not as oblivious as John had thought. He perked up a bit at a sudden thought. "Are we getting into a fight?"

Burr laughed and John had to wonder where exactly Alex had gotten the idea that the boardwalk was a place for getting into fights. "Not unless Jefferson shows up."

"God forbid," Burr murmured dryly. "Laurens, can I have a word?"

" _Can I have a word?_ " Alex imitated him sarcastically, but with good humor. "Hey, while you talk I'm gonna steal your girlfriend for a sec." He and Theodosia stepped away and bent their heads together, conversing quietly. _Seriously, what the hell_?

"You never got the chance to meet Theo last summer, did you?" Burr asked randomly.

"Uh, no? There were rumors it was kinda rough going for you as far as dating goes. Didn't see you around much at all." Which had suited him fine, honestly. Burr was kind of a drag.

"Well, these relationships can be...difficult. But very worthwhile."

"...Okaaaay?"

"Alex seems like he picks things up fast, right?"

Talk about a non sequitur. But yeah, Alex had been asking him questions incessantly and soaking up the knowledge like a sponge. And, he realized suddenly, he'd just heard Alex _swear_. Casually, like any other _human_ their age. The way he talked had changed from just that morning, and from what? Being around other people on the boardwalk?

He eyed Burr warily, not sure where this was going—or where it was coming from. The fact that the other man used the nickname 'Alex' so nonchalantly irritated him for some reason. But. That was how Alex had introduced himself.

"It changes fast," Burr told him, and it sounded like a warning. A warning for what? "But it can go wrong if you're not careful. Me n' Theo had some trouble at first." He smiled suddenly, and it looked genuine. John couldn't think of how this could get much weirder. "But it's worth it."

Whatever the hell Burr was talking about, it seemed like it was coming from a good place so he went with, "Thanks for the advice." He managed to make it sound like a statement instead of a question.

Burr quirked a smile and nodded. "Sure."

In a flash, Alex was at his side again. "Donuts," he demanded.

Theodosia sidled back over as well. "I was just telling Alex how good these are."

A bit shaken, trying not to show it, John forced a grin. "The best," he agreed.

The donuts did actually make him feel better. The shop only took cash, but it was a eight dollars for a dozen hot, sticky-sugary donuts, and they were _amazing_. The two couples split after Burr gave him one last significant look. _Whatever. Not thinking about that right now._ His asshole selkie boyfriend was trying to steal some of John's donuts, having already inhaled his six, and one did not give up boardwalk donuts without a fight.

They meandered over to the rides, bickering over the last of the donuts.  Alex started licking sugar off his fingers again, and John seriously needed to invest in some napkins because this was too much for his heart.

"So! Which one you wanna try? Coaster?"

"Coaster?" Alex repeated curiously. John pointed the ride out. The roller coaster was his favorite, but they had just eaten a lot of food. He knew from numerous summers spent with his siblings, Herc, and Laf that puking was a high probability after all that.

"Actually let's just do the ferris wheel this time."

"Wheel, that's gotta be that one," Alex muttered, pointing. "We're going up in the _air_?"

"Yeah, c'mon, it'll be fun."

Alex gave him a dubious look but followed him, curiosity winning out.

The ferris wheel was small and kind of old, but lovingly maintained. The cars all painted different colors and were open to the ocean air, perfect for balmy summer nights like this. Perfect romantic setting for a date, actually, although once again, Alex didn't have the context to know that. Probably. Anyway, Alex was a bit too preoccupied with the slow lift of the car into the sky to be thinking about anything romantic. His fingers kept tapping the guardrail and he was scooted as far back in the seat as he could get, which wasn't very far. His eyes were fixed on John's shoulder, turned away from the ocean view as well as the view of the ground below. Well, John could work with that.

He reached out, lacing their fingers together. "S'okay, I gotcha."

Alexander's eyes flit up and met his. They looked more human than he'd ever seen them. When Alex smiled, John leaned in and kissed him. Slow, like the ferris wheel, and sweet, like the sugar glaze on the donuts.

* * *

 

When they finally made it back to the beach house, laughing about nothing and breathless just from each other's company, it was easy to curl up together in John's bed. Turned towards each other in the dark space under the blankets, they held hands while John scrolled through Facebook pictures on his phone. Alex's skin was cool to the touch.

"This one's Herc drinking us both under the table, and you can kinda see Laf in the background, but he's all blurry."

"And they'll be here tomorrow? I wanna meet them."

"Yep, I gotta go get them from the airport first thing. Their flight gets in at like five in the morning."

"Shouldn't you be getting to sleep then?" Alex asked, but he was grinning.

"Shut up." He grinned back, nudged one of Alex's knees with his own. "Oh hey, here's Burr and Theodosia. Looks like a pic from last summer." He turned the phone so Alex could see. In the picture, the couple was standing close together but they obviously weren't quite comfortable with each other yet. Burr's hands were shoved in his pockets and Theodosia's bright blue eyes were looking off to the side.

Alex hummed as he looked at them. "They look happy. Right?"

Not the word John would have used, but he agreed anyway because whatever had been going on last summer, they had seemed happy together at the boardwalk. "Yeah. They're happy."

Alex leaned in to kiss him again and John smiled into it. The date had gone better than he'd thought possible. And now the shared space seemed comforting, their interactions easy. Natural.

His dreams were anything but.

They were down at the jetty, and the world was gray. A dense mass of fog hung absolutely still over the ocean, like a wall. It looked like the world ended in gray right at the edge of the shoreline, but he could still hear the waves. The line of jetty stones started halfway up to the dunes and trailed down towards the water, disappearing into the impenetrable mist.

Alex was walking slowly along the rocks, hands out for balance, not looking at him. For some reason John couldn't tell if he was headed in towards land or out towards the sea. It occurred to him, though, that Alex shouldn't be stepping on those stones with his bare feet; the jetty was covered in barnacles and oyster shells from the rise and fall of the tides. He opened his mouth to warn him of the danger, and that was when Alex finally looked at him.

His eyes were brown.

Suddenly the fog started to move, blown in towards the shore by a constant wind, forming clouds and dissipating slowly over the shore as it came. He saw flashes of Alex's form in the distance—had they been this far apart before?—and tried to move closer, only to freeze when he finally saw him clearly.

His eyes were blue.

When Alexander saw him looking, he turned and started to run along the stones, down towards the ocean. His bare feet flashed red with blood as the jagged rocks cut them open. His hair flew around his face. He disappeared into the gray and the sound of waves.

When John woke up, Alexander's eyes were blue, and they were watching him.

He flinched away. Alexander flinched in response.

He rolled and stumbled out of the bed, away, and grabbed for his phone. "Gotta go get Herc and Laf," he rasped. "I'll be back."

Alexander made a wounded noise. "John," he murmured, pleadingly.

He refused to look."Gotta go," he said again.

In a flash Alexander went from crestfallen to livid. "Well it's not like _I'm_ going anywhere, is it?" he spat, and turned away.

John fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brown or blue hmmmm  
> so like, how would you feel if I ended this fic in the angstiest way I can think of?? like it took so much effort to write this romance stuff and I ended up going back to nonsensical angst dreams at the end there  
> you know, I usually write humor fics? what is happening here  
> chapter title from seal woman/yundah by mary mclaughlin


	5. selkie stories are only for losers stuck on the wrong side of magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPRING IS HERE and so is this very loosely edited chapter 5  
> also check it out, I have tentatively sketched out another three chapters for this fic for a total of 8  
> (if there was something in particular you wanted to see, lmk!)  
> props to toracal for reminding me people read this and I should update it!  
> also I once made an 8tracks playlist about mermaids which actually works really well for this fic, you can find it [here](http://www.8tracks.com/aozoranoshita/making-this-cold-harbor-now-home) if I can html that properly, or find it at my writing tumblr (also aozoranoshita)  
> chapter title once again from the sofia samatar story (which you should read)

John was so distracted staring at his own hands clenching and unclenching that he didn't notice his friends' arrival in the terminal until Lafayette kicked him in the shins.

"Helloooo, we're _here_!"

John jumped in his seat. "Shit! Hey guys!"

"I realize it is, how did you put it, _ass-o-clock_ _in the morning_ but you could be a bit more excited to see us, yes?" Laf teased, but his eyes were worried.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered. Standing up seemed like a monumental effort at the moment. His friends were awesome, though, and they saved him the trouble by dropping their baggage and sitting down on either side of him, crowding in close. Hercules slung an arm over his shoulder and Laf curled an arm around his waist, and between the two of them John felt substantially more solid.

"I'm really glad you guys are here," he said, the statement having more weight behind it than usual. Laf was rubbing his stubbly cheek against the top of John's head, and Hercules was squeezing his shoulders tight.

"Your boy giving you trouble? Do we need to have a _conversation_ with him?" Herc asked.

"Oh God, no, don't do that."

"Awww, you never let us have any fun," Laf pouted, which was distinctly not true because between the three of them they usually had _too much_ fun and ended up with no money and killer hangovers.

"This is different," he muttered.

"Right, right, the selkie thing. Can't you just, _je ne sais pas_ , pretend he is a normal human?"

"Laf's right," Hercules put in, and John could feel Laf smirking above him. "He ain't living in the ocean anymore, so you gotta just go at this like you would a regular guy."

"I'm so scared he'll leave, though," John admitted, practically whispering. "All the stories say—"

"Alright, stop there, dude. Let's just pretend this _is_ a normal guy you're dating for a second, alright?"

"Um. Okay?"

"Can we _have a talk_ with him if he's a human boy and not a selkie?" Laf asked, perking up. It occurred to John that barring a disastrous attempt at a shovel talk, Laf and Alex would get along really well.

"No," John told him, trying to sound stern.

"Aww."

"You can't be in a relationship convinced the other person is gonna leave you! That's super unhealthy. It's like when Tim Robbins's character in _Nothing to Lose_ thinks his wife is cheating on him and he makes all these shitty decisions based on that. If you let yourself keep doubting him like that, you're just gonna screw everything up for yourself. You gotta have a little _faith_."

John and Lafayette moved as one to lean back away from Hercules and stare at him incredulously. " _Nothing to Lose_? That awful 90s comedy that I literally hadn't thought about in years until just now? Are you kidding me?" John asked.

"It's not that bad," Herc protested.

Laf whipped his phone out. "It has 29% on Rotten Tomatoes," he announced. "It is, in fact, that bad."

Herc dragged them both into simultaneous headlocks. "Take it back," he warned.

"Never!" Laf crowed, managing to wriggle his gangly form out of the hold and snatch his suitcase, dashing away.

"Don't leave me here with him!" John called after him. "He'll infect me with his awful taste in movies!" Laf stopped briefly to turn and give them two middle fingers before resuming his escape.

"The disrespect I get from you two," Herc sighed as John collapsed into helpless laughter.

God but he was glad they were here.

* * *

 

 Introducing them to Alex went better than expected.

When they walked into the house, the mess from yesterday had been cleaned up. Probably a good sign. Alex came down the stairs a minute later, wearing an old pair of John's shorts and one of his T-shirts. He looked hesitant, stepping lightly on bare feet and repeatedly tucking his hair behind his ears. John made a mental note to give him a hair tie later.

Lafayette, who had made vaguely threatening comments the whole way back in the car, immediately started cooing, "He's so _cute_!" and rushed forward to sweep Alex up in a hug. Alex went from shy to grinning in a second, dark eyes lighting up, and it made John's heart pound. Herc snorted and clapped him on the back before moving forward to rescue Alex from Laf's embrace and introduce himself.

They end up settled on the patio furniture facing the beach. John mostly watched and listened while Laf regaled Alex with greatly embellished stories about their time in school together, with Hercules interjecting and correcting when the tale got too tall. Laf always scoffed at these interruptions, flapping his hands impatiently and bouncing in his seat until he was allowed to continue with a pointed " _Anyway_ , like I was saying—"

Alex laughed, asking questions and egging Laf on. Every few minutes he would shoot a look at John and smile when he saw him looking back. Inevitably he asked where Laf's accent came from, and then the conversation turned to France. John had mostly relaxed into his chair when Laf suddenly broke from his rapid fire France talk to ask, "John has told us a lot about you, but he didn't mention where you were from?"

He immediately tensed up again, and watched as Alex blinked slowly, considering his words before answering. "Well. Way back my...dad's side of the family was from Scotland. But my mom was from Nevis, and I've been living there and then around some other islands. I was in Puerto Rico a lot before I came up here."

John could feel himself gaping, just a little bit, because Laf had just up and _asked_ like it was no big deal. Herc was shooting him a significant look as if to say _That's because it's_ not _a big deal, you big baby_. He actually had the nerve to mouth _COMMUNICATION_ at him, too.

"Oooh, I see! How did you end up in South Carolina? How long have you been here? Are you liking it so far?" Laf continued asking questions; Alex continued to look a little dazed but not put off by the interrogation.

"I wasn't actually aiming to come this far north but there was a storm and...I've only been around a few weeks. And yeah, I like it a lot." He looked at John again when he said this. John's face went red, and Alex smirked in response.

Laf started cackling. "I bet you do." Then he switched tacks. "So! What are our plans for the day?"

"Beach," Herc intoned immediately. John hid a wince. Right. Of course his friends would want to go down to the ocean, what was the point in coming to the beach otherwise? They'd kind of been avoiding that, though, what with the selkie thing, although maybe...maybe his friends were right, and he was making too big a deal out of this. Maybe it would be fine.

But Alex was shaking his head. "John promised to take me to the library," he said. "We could meet up with you guys a bit later, though?" With a jolt, John remembered he had actually promised this back during the bathtub discussions, but Alex hadn't brought it up since then. So why now?

Lafayette and Hercules shared a look. "Oh, I get it, you guys wanna be _alone_ ," Herc drawled.

Laf whipped out a handkerchief—why the fuck did he even have one?—and started dabbing at faux tears. "We're not good enough for John anymore, Hercules! We, his dearest friends, are being pushed aside for the _library_ , of all places."

Herc patted him on the back sympathetically. "Dude's in love, Laf."

"Oh! They grow up so fast!" This devolved into over-the-top fake bawling while Herc struggled to keep a straight face.

"You guys! C'mon," John groaned, fighting the urge to cover his face in embarrassment. "They're joking," he clarified for Alex, who actually looked a little worried.

"Oh. Well, we'll definitely meet back up again after, right?"

Laf finally stopped his theatrics to brightly confirm, "Right! How about after your library trip we all come back here and make plans for the night? We _have_ to do something tonight to celebrate our arrival!"

While his friends started chatting about possibly grilling that night, John leaned in to whisper to Alex. "Library?"

"You looked kinda freaked out, dude. I thought maybe you wanted to take a breather before we start in with the, uh, festivities?" Alex murmured back.

And, oh. Okay. He felt an odd mix of emotions rising in his chest. First, did Alex just call him 'dude' because he'd heard Herc use the word? He really did pick things up fast. And it was kind of cute. Also, Alex had been watching him, picked up on his discomfort, and was now trying to make him feel better. _Wow. Best selkie husband ever._ Because, in the stories at least, the selkie was always unwilling, distant— _no._ He tamped down on that line of thought quickly. He needed to take his friends' advice and let the selkie thing go. Stop focusing on the stories and start focusing on the here and now.

He grinned. "Thanks, Alex. Library sounds good. And then we'll tear it up tonight with Herc and Laf."

"Tear what?" Alex's head tipped to the side curiously when he asked, and it made John laugh.

"Look at them, at it already!" Laf broke in.

"Go ahead on your library date, we'll handle things here," Herc waved them off.

John stood and extended a hand to Alex, pulling him up as well. "Don't wreck the house while we're gone," he told them, only half joking. His friends gave him matching expressions of innocence. "Uh huh, y'all ain't fooling me." Herc and Laf kept exaggerating their expressions until they were basically just making weird faces at him. With Alex starting to laugh beside him and the promise of an awesome night with all three of the people most important to him later on, John finally felt like his vacation was starting.

* * *

 

Except, that was a weird thought, wasn't it? It hadn't really sunk in until after driving Alex to the library (the rapturous expression on his face when he found the "human" law books—John wished he'd taken a picture) and he was wandering the back shelves by himself while Alex sat on the floor reading a few aisles away. He'd already started mentally counting Alex as important to him, right up there with his closest friends, and he'd only known the guy for a few days. And it had been a joke, but when Herc said, "Dude's in love," it hadn't registered as weird or out of place at all. And look, he wasn't _completely_ pathetic, he wouldn't actually say he was in love with Alexander, but...it didn't feel incorrect, either. God, at the very least he was halfway there.

_Three fourths of the way_ , he admitted to himself as he caught a brief glimpse between the shelves of Alex hunched over a thick book in his lap, hair already falling out of the ponytail John had lent him a hair tie for. _Pull it together, Laurens._

Technically, though, they were already married. Or, not technically. Mythologically? How the hell did this even work?

Even as he started wending his way towards the mythology section, he knew it was a bad idea. _Just to clarify some things_ , he told himself. _Just a glance_.

There was a book of Scottish and Irish myths, and he pulled it from the shelf, looking around guiltily before he opened it. He ended up on the page for banshees. _Bad omen, harbinger of death_. He grimaced and flipped forward to _Selkies_ and started to skim the entry. A lot of it was stuff he'd read online, but there was some new information. A story of one selkie bride—and they were consistently referred to as brides, he noted—whose husband hit her, and who had disappeared back into the sea when her husband hit her the third time. John wondered if that was just one story, or if there really was some kind of magical 'three strikes you're out' rule. Not that it mattered, he'd never hit Alex. They'd been getting along amazingly well, except, he recalled with a pang, that morning when he'd left to get his friends from the airport.

"It's not like _I'm_ going anywhere, is it?" Alex had said.

But in all the stories, the selkie always left. And John kept coming back to that, doubts creeping back in and refusing to leave him alone, making his stomach churn and his hands shake.

Picking up the book had been a mistake, he realized. When he looked up and saw Alex watching him, expression stormy, he knew it was a _big_ mistake.

Alexander stalked forward and ripped the book away from him. "Why?" he hissed, eyes electric blue and sparking with anger. "You keep looking at me like I'm far away and I'm _not_!"

"Alex—" he started, helpless.

"You're doing it right now! I'm right here, John! _You're_ the one who's far away and I can't do this if you won't..." He stopped suddenly, fire extinguished and replaced with weary sadness. "Are you ever going to trust me?" he asked, quiet like the low tide.

"I don't know if I can," John answered honestly, just as quiet.

Alexander turned on his heel and walked away, books forgotten.

_Strike two_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never actually seen the movie Nothing to Lose so idk  
> if you liked the ending on the last chapter and/or this chapter there is some FUN STUFF coming up for you, friends  
> also some fun stuff for you happy times fans, don't worry (...too much)  
> as always comments and kudos are SUPER APPRECIATED (for lafayette and hercules in this chapter, especially, how did I do?)


	6. I have come in from the sea, and I'll not go to the waves, love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends I am trying a new thing where I actually...reply to comments...in an effort to remind myself to update faster. So if you comment and I reply, please know that I am thrilled no matter how stilted my attempts may be.  
> ALSO this chapter briefly touches on the issue of Alex, being a mythological sea creature, not having any documentation/identification, and the problems that might entail since he's in the South and isn't white. This fic won't go into detail on that because it's not the focus of the story but I thought it was worth bringing up. If you think the way I mention it in this fic is inappropriate/needs work, let me know and I'll fix it.  
> Chapter title once again from The Maiden and the Selkie (I actually used half of this line already but w/e)

John spent several grueling hours in the library, too upset to actually peruse the books. He ended up walking the aisles, hyper-aware that the all-seeing librarians had probably noticed him loitering, making him nervous the way being scrutinized by store employees did when he'd already decided not to buy anything but couldn't make himself leave the store while they were watching. And he definitely couldn't just leave the library, because Alex was still here. He was also wandering the shelves, but determinedly looking at the books and ignoring John. Which, yeah, fair enough, but it had been  _ hours _ .

John kept pacing, taking quick peeks down aisles to catch a glimpse of where Alex was and then hurrying on before he could be spotted. A couple of times he lost track of Alex's movements and ended up bumping into him, only for Alex to glare and shove past him, arms once again full of books. John sighed and tucked himself into a corner, pulling out his phone. He had...wow. He had 27 texts. He'd put his phone on silent when they got to the library, but apparently Laf and Herc had blown up the group text even without his input. He scrolled about halfway up, trying to find the thread of the conversation, but when he saw this particular exchange:

 

**herc** : I dont understand why I cant just TAKE the board

**herc** : the guy does not APPRECIATE it the way I would

**laf** : u can't just take things even if u would 'appreciate it more'

**laf** : or so I have been led to believe because u guys would not let me steal the alligator at the aquarium even though we had the perfect opportunity to do so!!!

**herc** : that was a fucking gator laf this is a BEAUTIFUL surfboard

**laf** : IF I CANNOT STEAL THE ALLIGATOR YOU CANNOT STEAL THE BOARD END OF DISCUSSION

 

...followed by more discussion, John gave up and just started typing.

 

**me** : Why are u guys texting aren't you together???

**herc** : nah laf went to the store to get food we are GRILLING tonight

**laf** : we raided the kitchen already and may have eaten most of the snacks so yes

**laf** : I am shopping

**laf** : if u have any requests

**herc** : I just bought a fuckton of fireworks at the boardwalk and now Im thinking about stealing this surfboard from some dude at the beach

**laf** : NO that's not fair :(

**herc** : to the guy Im stealing from or u and the fuckin gator

**laf** : shut up JOHN TELL HIM

**me** : Guys I fucked up

**laf** : wow

**me** : Thanks laf that's very helpful

**laf** : 2ri1

**herc** : man idk why you think wed be able to give you advice on this but maybe just

**herc** : apologize?

**herc** : like have you DONE that yet or

**me** : Well no

**laf** : go do iiiiiiit

**herc** : GO MAN GO

 

"Hey," Alex interrupted, making John fumble his phone. "I can," he hesitated over the phrase, "check these out, right?" His face was still set, obviously pissed, but apparently ready to leave the library.

"Uh, yeah, but you'll need a card." John was about to hand his own card over, but then he had a better idea. "C'mon." He led Alex to the front desk and smiled at the librarian there. Her nametag identified her as Angelica. "Hey, my friend needs a library card but I drove us here so we kinda forgot to bring his ID." It occurred to him a second later that with the dark hair and olive skin, Alex would immediately be pegged as Latino, not ‘mysterious sea creature of unknown origin.’ Hmm.

Angelica gave them both a look, but she was young and black so John wasn’t too worried. “I need a name and address, and you have to sign here on the card. You can check out using this card today, but next time you use it the system will prompt the librarian to check for ID and proof of residency, which can be a driver's license or utility bill with your name on it,  _ and  _ a copy of the lease or deed.” She shoved the forms and blank card over the counter to Alex, along with a pen. Alex picked up the pen, hesitant, but started to slowly fill in the information when both John and Angelica gave him encouraging smiles. He wrote with painstaking care, like he wasn’t really used to holding a pen, but his letters were neat enough to be a printed font.

John watched as he filled in—yeah, ‘Alexander Hamilton.’ Interesting. He murmured the address of the beach house, and Alex copied it down diligently. As he worked, John glanced at Angelica, who was watching the slow progress with one eyebrow raised and a bemused expression. She didn’t look like she was about to call ICE on them or anything, but her warning reminded him that he would have to get some kind of identification if Alex was going to stay. Hercules’ Sons of Liberty friends could definitely help with that. And if nothing else, John had money to throw at the problem, assuming his dad didn’t find an excuse to disown him before he kicked it. 

Alex finished filling out forms and signed the back of the card as John contemplated the technicalities of making a selkie a U.S. resident. “Alright, you’re set,” Angelica told them. “Welcome to South Carolina. Bring your books back on time. Or don’t, we could use the late fees.” She proceeded to scan the card and then the books, handing the tiny plastic rectangle back to Alex, who stared at it for a moment before pocketing it. He turned and gave John a tentative smile, dark eyes warm. John’s heart thudded erratically in his chest. They were staring at each other—what was it about Alex’s eyes?—when Angelica slapped the receipt into a book cover and handed Alex the stack. “I’ll leave you guys to it,” she said, and sidled off to check the returns cart.

Alex jerked his head towards the exit, and John, helpless, followed him out.

They got back into the car. Alex was holding his books in his lap, fingers stroking along the spines. After sitting in silence for a moment, Alex told him, “I  _ want _ to stay.”

John nodded slowly. “Okay.”

It was going to have to be enough.

The mood driving back to the beach house was strange. Dark gray clouds had moved in overhead while they were in the library, and now a lightly hissing rain was falling softly. The sun-baked asphalt sent up clouds of steam as the water hit that looked like smoke in the headlights. In the distance, heat lightning turned the sky blue and purple. Alex held his books in his lap with his right hand; John gripped the steering wheel with his left. They held hands across the armrest between them.

The calm  _ during  _ the storm , John thought to himself. There was a word for that, right? He snuck a quick glance at Alex, who was staring out the window pensively.  _ The eye of the hurricane _ . He should really check the weather forecast when they got back, he mused. It was hurricane season on the coast, after all.

The drizzle lightened to practically nothing by the time they arrived back at the house. Still, they dashed up the front steps, Alex shielding the books with his body and John shielding Alex. 

“Wanna stash those? I’m gonna track down the guys.” John told him. Alex nodded and headed up to John’s room to find a place for the books. John hesitated a moment, but he could hear whooping out on the beach-side patio so he headed for that. Sure enough, Herc and Laf were out there, firing up charcoal for the grill. Laf was fiddling with the handles that extended and retracted the awning, making the covering go back and forth and cackling to himself. Herc bellowed slogans from the old commercial, “FROM SWELTERING SUN TO SHADY OASIS IN JUST SECONDS!” as he poked at the coals. 

“How many years have we hung out here?” John demanded. “Why are you still not over the fucking retractable awning?”

“SunSetter retractable awning!” his two asshole friends chimed in perfect unison.

John flipped them both off. “How was the beach?”

“Awesome,” Herc told him, dumping the coals into the grill in a shower of sparks and flame. “The waves were great. Tide’s strong, though, with the storm incoming.”

“I haven’t been checking the weather, ’s not a named storm, is it?”

“Gilbert.”

“Don’t call me that!” Laf protested immediately when he heard his name. “Ready to grill?” He poked his head in the door to the house. “Alexander! When you come out can you grab the covered dishes from the kitchen?” he yelled.

“Just grab them yourself, man, what the hell.” John rolled his eyes. “What are we making?” he asked Hercules.  

“Burgers, hot dogs, and fish.”

“Fish?”

“Yeah we grabbed some fillets at the seafood market, weren’t sure if maybe your boy didn’t eat red meat or really liked fish or what.”

“Seriously? Well I mean, I dunno how he feels about fish but he likes pork, at least. Bacon.”

“Ham? Like Ponyo?” Herc grinned.

Alex emerged balancing three dishes covered in tinfoil before John could comment.

“Beef! Pork or something related to it! Fish!” Herc announced each plate as he took them, placing them on a small table next him and brandishing his tongs before he started distributing their soon-to-be dinner on the grill. Alex watched the proceedings with interest until Laf bounded up behind him to grapple him into a hug.

“You’re wet!” Alex complained, but he was laughing.

“Mm, yes, between the rain and the ocean I am perhaps a little damp. You should not mind a little water though,  _ non _ ?”

John twitched. Everyone continued like they hadn’t seen it.

“Why is your hair slicked back like that?” Alex asked, reaching up to pet a hand through it.

“Oh, the salt water will dry out my beautiful hair if I let it, so I put conditioner in.”

“Huh.”

“Although,” Laf leaned in to speak conspiratorially in Alex’s ear. “Not all of this, ah, glistening is water. Some is sweat. Hercules and I were having a contest of strength before you returned.” He pranced backwards and whipped off his shirt in one smooth motion. Alex’s eyebrows shot up.

“Is that a challenge?” Herc asked. “John, hold my utensils.” John ended up with tongs in one hand and a spatula in the other as Hercules  _ also  _ removed his shirt. The two shirtless men circled each other for a moment before dropping down on either side of Alex and starting to do pushups. Alex looked positively thrilled with this turn of events.

Herc tucked one hand behind his back so he was doing pushups with only one arm. Laf, not to be outdone, was practically bouncing on his hands, clapping between each pushup.

“I can’t believe we’re friends. I can’t believe I invited you over. I’m eating all this food and neither of you assholes are gettin’ any,” John told them.

Alex started to laugh.

* * *

 

Later, when the sky had darkened from overcast gray to nighttime black, they ended up on the widow’s walk.

“They built balconies on the roofs of homes on the beach,” John explained as they headed up. “The story goes they were for widows who watched the horizon for their lost husbands’ ships to return.”

Alex frowned. “That’s awful.”

“Well, we use it for something else now,” John told him with a shrug. “You’ll like it. On a clear night you can see crazy stars, but tonight we’ll have something else.”

“Oh!” Laf exclaimed, overhearing this part. “Right! John, help me with those,  _ s'il vous plait _ .”

“Go up with Herc, we’ll be there in a second.”

“Okay…”

Alex trailed Hercules up the stairs as John and Lafayette detoured back down to the living room, where several bags of fireworks were waiting. It took some wrangling to get all of them, but ten minutes later they were laden with bags and carrying them up to the widow’s walk. John caught the tail end of a conversation about CPR, probably Herc telling stories about his days as a lifeguard. 

“We have arrived!” Laf crowed, plunking his bags down and then sitting cross-legged on the worn wood of the balcony next to Hercules. John set his own bags down and sat next to Alex. Herc started to rummage through the bags but John tugged them away.

“Wait for it,” he instructed, trying to sound stern. His friends made disparaging noises until he relented and tossed them a box of sparklers. Laf pulled out a lighter and started setting them on fire with a slightly manic grin. Herc held his own bundle out, patient, and Alex looked on with interest. Once they were lit and emitting sparks, they settled in for —

“Ghost story,” Laf demanded. He and Herc looked at John expectantly.

“You hear this one every year, chill,” John told them, laughing.

“I haven’t heard it,” Alex reminded him, leaning close so they were pressed arm to arm.

John felt his face flush slightly, but he cleared his throat and started. “Alright, so, a century ago there was a ship off the coast that was attacked by pirates. There was one beautiful woman on board who they forced to walk the plank. A storm was coming in, and as she stood on the deck with the wind blowing her hair loose she told the pirates that if she didn’t make it home to her family, neither would any of them. They forced her off the ship anyway. Her dress was the same color green as the ocean, and when she sank it looked like she had just...vanished into the waves.” He paused for effect. “A storm blew in within an hour, and the ship was destroyed. None of the pirates lived to tell the tale. But if you go down on the beach at night, you might see a running figure along the shore. It’s a woman in a seafoam green dress, with long dark hair and dark eyes, crying as she looks out to sea. Sometimes there are shadowy figures chasing her. But she always vanishes back into the waves, only to reappear on the shore the next night. Trapped. Hoping to find a way home.”

The sparklers had all gone out by the time John finished telling the story. “I always forget how good with words you can be,” Laf sighed, then shook himself and reached for more sparklers. 

“Thanks?”

“That was sad, too,” Alex complained, but softly, as though he were still caught up in the story.

There was a sudden cracking noise in the distance, and as one they all turned. Further down the beach, the twinkling lights of the boardwalk lit up the otherwise gloomy shore. A few seconds later, a green firework exploded into existence over the pier, rapidly followed by a rainbow of other colors. Herc and Laf whooped, diving for the remaining bags to pull out their own fireworks. John gave Alex an encouraging grin and shoved a bag toward him.

From their widow’s walk, they managed to match the boardwalk’s display firework for firework. Their valiant efforts were met with cheers from the neighbors and people walking on the beach. Listening closely, he thought they might even be getting encouragement all the way from the revelers on the boardwalk. After thoroughly exhausting themselves yelling, Lafayette and Hercules went to grab more food and some beers from downstairs. John took the opportunity to snuggle in closer to Alex, who looked up at him with a wide grin and dark eyes that reflected the colors of a few last straggling fireworks sent up by people on the beach. It was South Carolina, everyone had fireworks.

“Hey,” John murmured, a little giddy.

“Hey.” Alex rose up slowly into his space. They kissed languidly for a moment. “I was thinking,” Alex said, pulling away slightly, “about your sad stories. Ghosts and widows.”

“Uh?” Okay, but kissing…?

“My dad left a long time ago. I was very young. But he took his coat and he left.”

John snapped back to attention. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Alex shrugged, but his expression was stormy. “I stayed with my mother for a while. She was human. But when she died I took my coat and I left, too. I stayed like that, in that form—” he gestured helplessly, and John quickly nodded to show he didn’t need to explain the seal-form thing out loud. “For a long time. Until I ended up here, with the last big storm. And I started being interested in the word, this world, again.” He tilted his head, considering his next words. “Sometimes people leave on purpose, and sometimes they don’t have a choice. I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’d wait if you did,” John told him.

“Don’t have to,” Alex said simply. “You’re not a ghost or a widow. I’m right here.”

John blinked slowly. “Yeah.” For the first time, he actually believed it. He smiled, saw the answering joy on Alex’s face, and pulled him in for another kiss.

A few minutes later he heard whispering coming from the stairs and pulled back slightly to press their foreheads together with a breathy laugh. “Alright guys, you can come back up now.” 

“We were about to start singing ‘Kiss the Girl,” Herc informed them, armed with several beer bottles. “Good to see you got your shit together.”

“Working on it,” John replied.

Lafayette, of course, had started singing. “Sha la la la la la la, my oh my! Il est intimidé, il n'ose pas l'embrasser!”

“Wait, is this from that mermaid movie?” Alex demanded.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some links!  
> 2ri1 is French text speak for de rien (you're welcome), which you can see more of [here](http://www.french.about.com/library/writing/bl-texting.htm)  
> if you don't remember the sunsetter commercial, you can see it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FBaMfUiTq-E)  
> the ghost story is one I heard as a kid in NC, which you can read about [here](http://www.starnewsonline.com/article/20070614/NEWS/70614012/1067/tourism36&template=tourism)  
> (surprise, the ghost is Theo!)  
> I got the French lyrics for Kiss the Girl [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTYTdYd-RQ0)  
> I'm also writing a hamburr fic if you're interested in that [here](http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/6781030/chapters/15494980)
> 
> aaaand I'm late for work, so haven't really edited lmk if you see a glaring mistake! comments and kudos are really really appreciated!


	7. I'm in the grip of a hurricane, I'm gonna blow myself away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropical storm bonnie is making it rain here, so have a storm-inspired penultimate chapter!
> 
> Basic hurricane stuff: they usually start as tropical depressions, then become tropical storms, then become hurricanes! which are ranked from category 1 to category 5 (ie Katrina) They usually spin (you've probably seen pics of this) so there's an eye in the middle. Tropical storms are only sometimes defined enough to have an eye, but it can happen! Also I'm not a meteorologist so don't quote me on this.
> 
> This chapter will have the most impact if you've recently read the whole thing, yknow, if you got time for that kind of thing. Also please don't kill me?

John woke up around noon the next day sweating lightly. He immediately felt Alex's solid, warm presence next to him and, despite already being overheated, curled in closer with a soft sigh. Alex chuckled and started fiddling with his curls. When John blearily opened his eyes, it was to an amused brown-eyed gaze and a delighted smile.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey. Finally. I've been texting Laf," Alex said, showing him John's phone with his free hand. It buzzed and John saw from the preview on the screen Laf was using a shit ton of emojis, because of course he was.

"I'm surprised he hasn't bust in here to get us up yet," he replied with a yawn.

"He was gonna, but I talked him out of it."

"You're a lifesaver," John sighed happily. "A literal angel." He started carding his hand through Alex's hair, reciprocating the affection. It was sleek and straight, not salt-curled like it had been just two days ago. Alex hadn't gotten up for his usual bathtub soak this morning. He'd stayed with John.

The phone buzzed and they both glanced at it: Herc telling them that Laf had forced him out of bed and now they had to deal with him, too. John groaned. "Wanna take a shower?" he asked.

"With you?"

"Uh."

As nice as that sounded, Lafayette burst that bubble when he burst in through the door. "No showers! No point in showers! We're going to the beach!"

"We are?" John and Alex asked at the same time.

"Yes. It will help."

It went unsaid what exactly going to the beach would help with. And yeah, Laf meant well but John wasn't...entirely comfortable with the idea. Small steps would be nice, and the beach just meant too much. But Alex looked at him with a hopeful half-smile and, fuck, they were going to the beach weren't they.

"Alright, let's go."

Lafayette whooped. Hercules appeared, leaning on the doorjamb and gesturing towards the balcony. "Have you checked out the waves, dude?"

They all looked out at the ocean. Everything was monochrome; the sea and the sky were the same shade of steel gray. The sky was just a ceiling of stormclouds, and the sea was a churning mass of silver waves breaking into white froth at the crests as they battered the shore. "Holy shit," John breathed.

"Right?" Herc asked gleefully. "Suit up!" He and Laf scrambled out, presumably to find their bathing suits.

"Holy shit," Alex repeated, even softer.

"Y'alright?"

"Yeah, just remembering the last storm I got caught in." Alex visibly shook himself. "But I ended up here, so not so bad, right?" He blinked and smiled. "Got a suit I can borrow?"

* * *

When they got down to the beach, very few people were out, probably due to the high winds and constant drizzle. Some raincoat-clad walkers, two very determined joggers, and...that was it. No one was in the water. Promising.

"You can swim in like, human form, right?" Herc asked Alex, who was tugging at his borrowed swim trunks and looking out at the waves, contemplative.

Alex snorted at the question. "Of course. You said we're surfing?"

"Body surfing," Herc clarified. "So there's no board, you just catch the wave and ride into shore yourself."

"No problem!" Alex curled his fist into a thumbs up and held it out tentatively. "Like this, right?"

Laf and Herc both flashed him double thumbs up back.

"You got it, dude. And everyone be careful of the rip current, alright? I'm sure we all know this because we're all experienced swimmers," he smirked when he caught Alex's eye here, "but just to reiterate: if you get caught in the current swim _diagonal_ towards shore. Don't wear yourself out trying to fight it. It's gonna be really strong what with Gilbert and all."

Laf groaned.

"Gilbert?" John and Alex asked simultaneously.

"Yeah, but don't worry they only force evacuation if it's all the way at Category 5."

" _Category_?" John sputtered. "Wait. What?"

"Yeah, Gilbert's been demoted back down to tropical storm, but for a while they thought it would make landfall as a Category 1 or 2."

Oh shit, it _was_ a named storm. "What the hell guys, we're going swimming in a hurricane?"

"Tropical storm," Laf corrected. "We have gone swimming in a Category 1 before, remember? We had surfboards and we lost them in the waves, almost drowned, and we were exhausted afterwards and you said it was the most fun you'd ever had."

Well, yeah. But.

Alex nudged him. "I'm literally a better swimmer than all of you. It's cool. Let's go!"

So they did.

Wading in was hard. They had to get past the breakers trying to push them back out, and the rough sea past that wasn't much better. John and Alex stopped when the water came up to about chest height; Herc and Laf went out further since they were taller. John could feel the sand under his feet shifting with the ebb and flow of water, but the real force of the waves was at the surface, not near the ocean floor. This was good, because keeping on their feet would help retain their energy instead of wasting it treading water. Not that they were standing for longer than a few seconds at a time, though. Large swells of saltwater kept rolling past towards shore, and their choices were either try and stay on their feet while the wave went over their heads, or push off and float so they could ride over the top and down into the trough between waves, where they could regain their footing. After a few minutes of going up and down, Lafayette took a deep breath and dove under the next incoming swell. He emerged on the other side pushing his hair back, wiping seawater from his face and laughing maniacally.

Hercules and Alex followed suit on the next wave. All three hollered at John until he shouted, "Fine!" and closed his eyes, diving under a looming mountain of water. The muted, rushing sound of the ocean filled his ears. Blind, he pulled his legs up close to his chest so he was floating in a small ball. He could feel when the wave passed, a visceral pulse around him, and he came up gasping even though it had only been a few seconds. He blinked the saltwater away but they were surrounded by the ocean so his eyes started to sting anyway. His friends were cheering, though, and he grinned. He'd done this before. Nothing to worry about.

And Alex wanted to stay. Nothing to worry about there, either.

He craned his head over his shoulder to note where they were—wow, the beach house was already several hundred yards away. The current was pulling them further down the beach. He'd have to keep an eye on that so they didn't get too far away. He turned back just in time to get hit in the face by a wall of water. When it pushed past him he spat the mouthful he'd almost swallowed out and glanced over at Alex, who was both laughing and making a face at him.

"Don't make me come over there," he warned.

"Like you could catch me," Alex retorted, then turned towards the beach, kicked off and started paddling. He caught the middle of the incoming upswell perfectly. John lost sight of him as the wave sped towards shore and broke, rushing foaming water in over the receding water underneath. When Alex resurfaced he was almost all the way back at land. He stood up, water just barely above his ankles, and waved at them.

"Holy shit!" Herc hollered. "Look how far he got, boy's _good_!"

"My turn!" Laf announced, and started paddling in an attempt to catch the next wave. He went under as it passed, but didn't quite catch the tide because when it rushed by he came up just a few feet away. "I almost had it."

John rolled his eyes, which were still stinging, dammit. "Yeah, sure." Laf lunged for him and John bobbed backwards, yelling incoherently as he tried to avoid his friend's flailing arms. Alex reappeared and latched onto his back, which gave Laf the opportunity he needed to jump onto him and send all three of them tumbling under in a mass of gangly limbs.

"Incoming!" Herc shouted when they came up again, and the trio jumped instinctually to ride over the crest. As they coughed and wiped away the worst of the water from their eyes, they heard Herc laughing from behind them. He'd managed to catch the last wave and ride it in towards shore, although he hadn't gotten as far as Alex.

"I'm the best," Alex announced as Herc waded back towards them.

"Oh we'll see about that," John told him.

And so through the combined saltwater and rainwater, and despite the gusting winds, they held a bodysurfing contest. And of course, Alex thrashed them all. Herc pulled ahead of John for second place, and Laf came in last by far.

"How are you no good at this?" Alex asked him wonderingly as Laf pouted. "You're so. Sleek. You have the perfect body shape for riding waves."

"No sense of timing," Herc told them. "You gotta know when to jump in."

"Guys," John interrupted. "We've gone pretty far, we need to head back into shore and walk back towards the house before we get swept all the way down the coast." The other three chorused their agreement.

"Last one in gets last shower," Herc announced, and immediately caught the next wave. Laf started squawking, "No fair!" and swam towards the beach, in hopes of the breaking waves closer to shore pushing him in. Alex paused to grin at John, probably knowing he would have no trouble riding in, and John found himself unable to smile back because of the sudden lurch in his gut.

With his dark hair plastered to his face and neck, bare-chested and soaked in water from the sea and the sky, Alex looked like he _belonged_. In the ocean.  A _selkie_.

Alex disappeared into the waves.

John stood for a moment, gasping for air, before a wave hit his back and knocked him under. He tumbled, head over heels, helpless in the pull of the tide towards shore. His back grazed along the rough sand on the ocean floor. What felt like an interminable amount of time passed before the wave deposited him right on shore, flat on his back and coughing.

"You okay, man?" he heard Herc asking. He nodded, even as he continued coughing, and sat up. Water rushed up around his legs, the last dregs of another wave.

"Think I'm done for the day," he croaked. Herc chuckled and held out a hand, which John clasped gratefully, and hauled him to his feet. A moment later Laf emerged dripping from the ocean.

"I'm last, aren't I?" he asked mournfully.

"Actually," Herc yelled, "Alex hasn't come in yet."

"Why are you yelling?" Laf yelled back.

"I'm not—oh." The rain and wind had stopped abruptly, and in the sudden stillness their previous volume was excessive. "Hey, looks like Tropical Storm Gilbert was still strong enough to circle up. Check it out." Herc pointed up.

Above them, the sky was clear. Weak sunlight was pouring through a roughly circular opening in the clouds that had to be several miles long. The light reflected off the towering wall of clouds surrounding the opening, making the sky a sickly yellow color. _The eye of the hurricane_ , John remembered.

His previous feeling of nauseous dread returned with a vengeance, made worse by the seawater he'd inhaled.  "Where's Alex?"

They looked out to sea. No sign of him.

John started to shiver. No. He couldn't let himself think it but what if—

"Hey, come on, it's not like he would have drowned or anything."

"No, he wouldn't have," John agreed, voice faint.

"Probably the current pulled him out and he'll show up further down the beach, yes? We'll go find him," Laf tried to reassure him.

John was already shaking his head.  That was true, but what if, what if...

He turned and started running back towards the beach house.

"He would have gone the other way!" Laf yelled after him, but John had to check. He had to make sure.

It took him several minutes, but he burst into the house just as the eye passed and the storm burst back into life with a vengeance. He bolted down the hall towards his parents' room and threw the door open. The closet door was ajar, had he left it like that? But when he pulled it open all the way, the safe was shut. Because of course it was, no one knew the combination. Not even him. But still. Still he couldn't quite breathe. Oh God, he had to check because what if somehow—? No, it was impossible. But still. But still. His brain kept trying to move past that, form a new thought, only to shudder to a halt at _but_ _maybe—but what if—?_

Somehow he ended up with his phone in his hands, kneeling in the dark closet and attempting to call his father. His fingers weren't quite cooperating; they were cold and stiff, like rigor mortis had set in. He managed to dial—when was the last time he'd willingly called Henry Laurens?—and tried to ignore the roar of waves crashing outside.

His father picked up. "Have you done something? Is the house still standing?"

"What's the combination to the safe?" he asked, no preamble.

"What? Are you in our room? Why in the hell do you need the safe combination?"

"I put something in there and now I need to get it out," John explained, trying to stay calm. It was cold inside the house.

"Horsing around with your _friends_ , I assume." He could hear the sneer in his father's voice despite the static caused by the storm. "If whatever you locked in there is so important, maybe you shouldn't have been messing around and put it in there in the first place. Do you never think about your actions?"

"Just _give me_ the _fucking_ combination," John snapped.

The line went silent. "We will be talking about this," Henry said quietly after a tense moment. Normally that tone of voice would make John dizzy with dread but he was already way past that point. His father rattled off the combination and hung up. John tossed the phone aside, and shakily punched in the numbers, swinging open the safe.

The coat was still there.

John gasped in air, just realizing how short his breathing had been. He leaned forward, forehead resting on the wall of the closet for a moment, and finally found the strength to stand up. When he turned towards the door, Alex was standing there, blue eyes wide and gleaming even in the low light. The look on his face was. Inhuman.

"Alex."

The selkie shook its head. "No," it said simply. Turned and left.

John stood frozen in place for a moment. Then he dashed out to follow it—him. Alex. He stopped short in the living room, where Hercules and Lafayette were waiting.

"We found him," Laf offered weakly. "He was looking for you a minute ago but then he..."

"What did you _do_?" Herc asked angrily. "He was upset."

"I..." Oh God, what _had_ he done?

Herc shook his head and grabbed Laf's arm, dragging him out the door. Shit.

The floor creaked overhead.

John  ran up the stairs and checked his room. No Alex. His stack of library books was sitting innocuously on the floor near the still-unmade bed, and in a sudden fit of anger John kicked it over. The rage vanished just as quickly as it appeared, and he was left staring at the toppled pile, breathing heavily and not sure what to do.

He checked the other rooms, but Alex definitely wasn't in the house. Outside somewhere? He had to find him, but what could he possibly say if, when he did? He wandered slowly back downstairs, staring at the floor until he spotted a figure standing outside the sliding door to the beach in his peripheral vision. His head snapped up and he opened the door without processing who it was at first.

Theodosia. Braids whipping around her face in the wind, a drenched Aaron Burr standing at her shoulder.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I _felt_ that," Theodosia told him.

Again. "What? Felt what?"

"He was so close," she continued, hazel eyes flashing. "But you hurt him. Three times."

Three times...? Where had he heard—wait. No. That was just a myth and _oh God_ , no. No.

"You felt." He couldn't continue. Theodosia was a selkie. Had been a selkie. But she was human now. And Alex—

He thought back to Alex this morning when they'd woken up. Unwebbed, human fingers playing with his hair. Brown, human eyes meeting his. _No_.

Theodosia's expression barely changed, but her disdain was overwhelmingly clear. Without another word, she turned on her heel and left. Burr shook his head. "I told you it could go wrong," he muttered. John felt the rising tide of anger-fear-guilt-misery in his chest and before he knew it, his fist flew out and he punched Burr in the face. Theodosia reappeared in a flash, lifting one leg to deliver a powerful kick to his ribs that sent him reeling backwards with a pained grunt as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Gasping, he watched as Burr and Theodosia clasped hands and walked away.

There had to be a way to fix this. Not bothering to close the door, he tried to think of where Alex would have gone. He'd checked the front porch, he'd checked the balcony and the widow's walk and all the rooms in the house except—

Even as he struggled to breathe he managed to choke out a sob because he _knew_. Slowly, he staggered back to the one room he hadn't searched. His parent's room.

The safe was still open.

This time the coat was gone.

* * *

Somehow John ended up at the boardwalk. No one else was out, the renewed violence of the storm forcing everyone inside. Rain poured down and mixed with the water crashing up in a spray as waves slammed into the pier. Water washed over his bare feet as he staggered out to the end of the pier and stood gripping the railing, leaning out and screaming into the wind that tore his words away, " _I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please!_ "

But he'd read the stories, hadn't he? He'd read them even though Alex told him not to. Selkies didn't come back.

He sank down onto his knees.

The waves were getting bigger.

And when the next wave surged up over his head with a roar, John let his head tilt back and his mouth open to the saltwater and he drowned beneath it.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.  
> [Gilbert](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Gilbert) is actually a retired name, they don't name storms that anymore because of a Category 5 hurricane that came through the Caribbean and hit Mexico before coming up through Texas in 1988.  
> Check out some surfboarders ditching their boards to go under huge waves [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NY8xGTQPoCA) and ignore the music. I tried my best to describe how bodysurfing usually goes down, including wiping out on shore and going through a wave that you're not gonna catch. And having actually done it, I can tell you that I DO NOT recommend swimming during a hurricane, even if it's a category 1 ohhhh man
> 
> chapter title from Florence, and I listened to [this](http://8tracks.com/lequaidelamelancolie/as-old-as-time) mix a lot while writing, and I'd love to hear from you about this chapter :)
> 
> (IT'S GONNA BE FINE.)


	8. you're living by my breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm supervising at a historic site wedding right now, the fireflies are coming out and the wedding party is blasting dance music and it's warm and the cicadas are doing their thing  
> feeling pretty good right now  
> hope y'all are too

He wasn’t breathing.

He was so cold that the sudden warmth actually jolted him, causing his chest to resume spasming as his lungs started struggling with the saltwater influx again. There was rushing, rushing, rushing in his ears and all around him and the warm, solid mass nudging at his stomach made him realize that he couldn’t tell what else was around him besides _rushing_. He wasn’t, he wasn’t standing he was upside-down, maybe? Nothing under his feet and nothing at his fingertips but there was pressure and rushing right in his ears and oh, oh he was spinning he was in the water and the water was everywhere and he wasn’t breathing.

And something warm, something besides the cold rushing pressure of the ocean, was pushing him.

Cold, so cold, except the solid warmth and the oh God the rushing was in his chest in his lungs and it burned he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move but he was moving, the water and the warmth pushing him. There was water inside and out, all around, in his mouth and throat and lungs because still, helplessly, he was trying to breathe but there was no air to take in just water and salt and cold and rushing.

And then—

And then—

He woke up gasping, trying to breathe but first the water had to come _out_. He twisted onto his side—and oh, there was solid land beneath him now—and heaved, coughed, spit the water bubbling back up from his lungs onto the wet shore. There were still warm points of pressure on him, he realized distantly. Hands. Touching briefly and then retreating, returning, retreating again. Pushing wet curls away from his face, stroking over his side, brushing his shoulder. He couldn’t tell how many hands there were, how many people, but he only heard one thing, not the terrifying rushing of the ocean but “John John John please John—”

After hacking up more water than he thought his lungs could possibly hold, he rolled onto his back and lay gasping. God, everything hurt, especially his chest.

“John?”

It took him a moment to place the voice.

“Alex?” he gasped, and even that strained exhale of the name _hurt_. He opened his eyes. The sky was gray and it was still raining because, oh yeah, the hurricane, but it had calmed down significantly, or at least seemed calm in comparison to tumbling through roaring waves. A second later Alexander’s agonized face appeared above him: eyes wide, expression terrified, and that was his fault, wasn’t it?

“Sorry,” he rasped out, trying to inject as much sincerity into the near-whisper as he could.

“You should be!” Alex’s response was immediate and shrilly. “You just _died_! I had to do chest compressions to get your heart to start beating again and then mouth to mouth—Shut up, Herc was explaining how to do CPR last night and I’ve seen it done before so get that look off your face—”

“That’s not what the, uh, the look on my face is about.”

“Then what?” Alex hissed, concern starting to morph into anger.

“Your eyes,” John murmured, reaching up a shaky hand to cup Alexander’s cheek. “They. They’re amazing.”

“Don’t think flattery is going to get you out of this,” Alex warned, but he leaned into the touch and supported John’s hand with his own.

And his eyes were brown. Darker even than the shade John had pictured in his dreams, brown and dark and shining like mahogany or rosewood. And John hadn’t ever really thought about the phrase ‘warm eyes’ before but Alex’s were summer air: overwhelming, sultry, and pleasantly inescapable.

Alex tapped on his chest—lightly, but it still hurt. “Words, John,” he said solemnly. “You owe me that.” A flash of blue. John realized that the coat, the thrice-damned coat, was draped over Alex’s shoulders and he knew in his bones he had to make this right, _now_ , or he really would lose Alex and his summertime brown eyes forever.

“There’s a fairytale,” he said slowly, not quite sure where he was going with this yet but it was on the tip of his tongue, he almost had the words. “Not a selkie story, but a human fairytale where a king asks his three daughters how much they love him, and the first one told him ‘more than myself,’ and the second one said, ‘more than the world,’ and the last one said ‘more that salt in my food.’ Which sounds ridiculous, of course, and he got upset and sent her away. Years later he went to a neighboring king’s wedding but at the feast found he couldn’t eat any of the food. Everything tasted wrong, even the bread. All the food had been cooked without salt, and when he realized that, he realized what his daughter had been trying to tell him, and he cried that he’d sent her away, and the bride revealed that she was the banished daughter and they were reunited and happy again.” He’d picked up speed as he talked, and he blurted: “I realized what you were trying to tell me.” Then he paused, because that wasn’t quite the direction he wanted to go here. “I love you like salt,” he decided, voice making a comeback and sounding out clear and strong, at least for the moment. “Here, there’s salt everywhere. It’s _integral_. And it makes everything _more_ , y’know? Like eating chips at a cookout with your friends and licking your fingers, and the salt from the food and from sweat and from swimming in the ocean earlier and just from the air around you seems to crystallize on your skin and it almost hurts your tongue. And then eating something sweet—biting into a strawberry or a peach and it’s so much _sweeter_ after breathing in all that salt air, and every time you think it has to be the best you’ve ever eaten. And I could live without salt, if I had to, but God, why would I ever want to?”

Alex was blinking rapidly, brown eyes filling up with tears even as his face twisted and reddened in an attempt to control them. Elated and miserable and lovely. John couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. “Stay with me?” he asked, and Alex nodded vigorously, nearly dislodging John’s hand still on his face.

“Yes, John, of course.”

But also:

“And I’ll stay with you,” John promised.

This was what broke the dam; saltwater tears started pouring out over Alex’s cheeks even as he moved his head to press a firm kiss to the pulsepoint in John’s wrist.

“Hey, hey, come on it’s okay. You know, soaking wet like this you look a lot like the first time I saw you,” John told him, voice cracking into a hoarse whisper again halfway through.

“Oh my God, shut up,” Alex told him.

“And,” he coughed, painfully. “And we have got to watch the Little Mermaid, I’m telling you, there’s this scene where Ariel saves the prince and it’s a lot like this—”

“I changed my mind, I’m leaving.”

John choked on a laugh, chest heaving for a moment as Alex reached up with his free hand to pet his hair. “How did you find me, anyway?” he asked when he caught his breath. “I thought for sure you were long gone.”

“You were crying,” Alex told him, still steadily dripping tears himself. “Remember? A selkie can be summoned by crying seven tears into the ocean.”

“Was it just seven? I mean. I only vaguely remember but I must have cried more than that.”

Alex shrugged. “I was kind of waiting for it.”

John blinked, processing. “I thought. Selkies didn’t come back? For like seven years or something.”

“Well...you never _technically_ summoned me the first time. You just found the coat. And it’s a ridiculous rule, anyway, so fuck it, I dunno why you think I wanna be a seal so bad it’s really not that great? We can hang this stupid coat up on the wall for all I care, _I want to stay with you_. I wanna eat burgers and read books and hang out with our friends—”

The tears were increasing in volume again. John moved his hand to cup the back of Alex’s head and guide him down until his face was buried in John’s chest, where he turned to press his ear above John’s heartbeat. Alex’s breath hitched a few more times before evening out, and he blew out a long sigh; John felt his own chest rise with air as if in response.

But breathing still really fucking hurt. “I think I need to go to the hospital,” he muttered.

“The cavalry’s coming,” Alex told him, lifting his head and looking off to the side. John looked over and saw the reassuring sight of his friends running towards them across the beach.

Alex distracted him, pressing a short kiss to the bottom of his chin. “That’s the right phrase, isn’t it? The cavalry thing?”

“You got it,” John murmured, eyes drooping, ready to pass out again.

He felt Alex kiss him again briefly and say, “It’s gonna be fine.”

John believed him.

* * *

He stayed in the hospital for a few days, until concerns about oxygen deprivation and brain damage and pneumonia faded away and the doctors informed him cheerfully he’d make a full recovery. Herc was bragging about saving his life indirectly by telling Alex about CPR basics, Laf was oscillating between _very_ concerned hovering and _extremely_ concerned hovering, and Alex was a steady, unwavering presence at his bedside the entire time. He’d retrieved his stack of books and would read out of them for John while his voice recovered, and had also been fielding calls from his father. And yeah, John knew he was going to have to face that conversation sooner or later, but later sounded good right now.

Right now, he woke up to big brown eyes and the boisterous attention of his friends and felt pretty damn good. Despite the near-drowning.

Still, he was fairly tired out by the time they all made it back to the beach house. The other three were insistent they had to celebrate his release, though, so he napped all day and then let them drag him out to the beach that night for a bonfire.

“This is technically illegal,” he said loudly, “and I do not approve.”

Herc made an exaggerated ‘p- _shaw_ ’ noise. “Like that’s ever stopped us.”

“He just wants to look good in front of his _boyfriend_ ,” Laf agreed.

“I am a law-abiding citizen,” John told Alex, who was holding his hand and swinging it as they walked. “I’ve never broken the law in my life.”

“I wanna see the bonfire,” Alex announced cheerfully.

Herc and Laf cheered and darted over to snatch John and Alex up on their shoulders, running them further down the beach so they could set up at a distance from the house. John slapped ineffectually at Lafayette’s mess of springy curls, feigning outrage at the unceremonious trip on his friend’s bony shoulders. Meanwhile, a cackling Alexander had his arms tight around Herc’s neck as the two of them pulled ahead.

They all came to an abrupt stop as Herc decided that _right here_ was the perfect spot and dumped Alex onto the sand. Laf, bless him, let John climb down at his own pace, if only because he’d been recently hospitalized.

“Supplies,” Herc demanded, and Alex passed over the bulky bag he’d been bequeathed on the porch. Herc started to set up, with Laf loitering around and offering commentary every so often. This left John to sit down a few feet away, immediately joined by Alex. They huddled close and watched in companionable silence, occasionally broken by laughter when Herc got annoyed enough to start swatting at Laf whenever he darted close.

They all scooted in when the fire was going steadily. Alex was fascinated, feeding in sticks from a pile of driftwood left behind by the storm. The salt made the flames spark with shades of blue and lavender. John watched for a while before remembering suddenly, “I brought s’mores stuff.”

“I love you,” Herc told him. “Hand it over.” Laf was making grabby hands beside him. John rolled his eyes and rummaged in his own bag, pulling out a box of graham crackers and some chocolate bars and a bag of marshmallows and...his hand brushed something soft.

The coat was stuffed into the bottom of his bag, and he looked up to see Alex staring at him.

“Later,” Alex mouthed, and John raised an eyebrow but let it go for the time being. There were marshmallows to toast--or burn, if you were a heathen like Lafayette.

“They taste better this way!” Laf protested, noticing the dirty look his friends shot him when he promptly set his marshmallow on fire. John couldn’t help but laugh at Alex’s bemused expression and Herc’s exasperated one.

They made s’mores, they belted dirty songs, they chased each other in increasingly tighter circles around the fire until they fell over, they lay in the sand and talked about anything that came to mind. Just like they always did, except this time Alex was here.

_Like salt_ , John thought, feeling giddy. _It’s more_.

Well past midnight, they decided to head back to the house. “Newbie has to do clean up,” Herc announced, and left before anyone could say otherwise.

Laf nodded vigorously and followed shortly behind him.

This left John and Alex to put the fire out and haul the leftover supplies back.

“Thanks for that!” John yelled after them, unable to stop himself from grinning when the only reply was their distant laughter. He turned to Alex. “Ready to leave?”

Alex nodded, looking thoughtful. “Give me the coat.”

John paused only a moment. He held Alex’s gaze as he reached into his bag and offered the coat. Alex took it, slinging it over his shoulders for a moment, and looked out at the horizon.

The moon shone bright above the ocean. Reflected light glimmered and rippled in the waves.

Alex nodded once, and shifted until he was holding the coat above the fire.

“You don’t have to,” John told him. “I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice.”

“I know.” His eyes shone warm in the firelight. “This _is_ my choice.”

Alex lowered the coat and dropped it into the flames. For a moment John thought it would just smother the flames, but then the fire flared electric blue, a shade like selkie eyes, and the coat was consumed rapidly until there was nothing left.

They stood in silence for a moment. Then Alex decisively kicked a heap of sand onto the smoldering wood and turned to him. He was smiling. “John, I’m _human_.”

And John didn’t even have words for that. He lunged forward and picked Alex up in his arms, twirling for good measure.

Alex laughed and leaned down to kiss him, and John let his head tilt back and opened his mouth and _breathed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title is kinda embarrassing so I'm not gonna say what it's from but if you recognize it heyyyyy  
> glossing over drowning technicalities and the illegality of bonfires on the beach but  
> THAT'S IT  
> IT'S DONE  
> I HOPE YOU LIKED IT and THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the lovely comments and the kudos  
> as always, feel free to talk to me at aozoranoshita or piratecat on tumblr  
> check out the salt fairy tale in its many variations [here!](http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/salt.html)  
> and one last fun list of all the food mentioned in this fic: bacon, burgers, pizza, ice cream, popsicles, donuts, more burgers, hot dogs, fish, potato chips, strawberries, peaches, s'mores.....IT'S SUMMERTIME


End file.
